There's something romantic about fishing. Visit any seaside resort and you'll see a flotilla of fishing-themed knick-knacks, while boat prints adorn gallery walls. And at first glance, The Fisherman's Apprentice – in which marine biologist Monty Halls is learning the fishing trade – appears to be in that romantic tradition.

The first episode saw Halls paired with amiable skipper Nigel Legge, who taught him the ropes of crab and lobster fishing from his small boat the Razorbill. Halls learned the basics, literally plunging into his new role to get an idea what it was like to go overboard. But diving down to see the lobster pots on the sea bed seemed gratuitous; just another reason to get the scuba gear out.

As in his Great Escape series, shaven-headed ex-marine Halls is a natural on screen, powering in to the close-knit community of Cadgwith Cove in his Land-Rover but managing to win over the locals with hard work and easy charm.

He's no Michael Crick or Jeremy Paxman, however, and his laidback style has left questions unanswered: while there were hints in the first episode that the locals might be under pressure from second-homers, the only local interviewed said they welcomed the incomers' new viewpoints.

Similarly, the opening instalment revealed that many small-boat inshore fishermen are lucky to take home £15,000 a year, but didn't gone on to discuss this issue further. It seemed as though the series might be the TV equivalent of watching nets drying, in the vein of An Island Parish – a portrait of a dying way of life.

The programme appears to have been saved, however, by last week's second episode, which gave a much harsher view of the economics of the small-boat industry. We saw Hall set himself the target of earning £100 a day over three weeks to cover running costs, fuel, bait and make a small return. Bear in mind that it's easy for an inexperienced crab fisherman to earn almost nothing.

After several days of poor catches and bad weather, the relief on Halls's face when he manages to hit his target one day looked genuine; when he went out as a crew member on a bigger boat but ended up sick there was little sympathy from the crew: "Try not to spew over the fish" said the captain.

The voiceover suggesting that Halls's "mission" was in jeopardy – as in many programmes of this type – rather over-egged the situation. But there was much else of interest here. What was most fascinating was the fishermen's reasons for keeping fishing. "You've got to love the job to do it … it's a way of life," said one. Others cited the "freedom", that you're "your own man", that you can "be yourself" at sea.

It's certainly not for the money. "Fishermen go fishing because they're fishermen, not because they're making a profit," pointed out one.

When the producers let the fishermen themselves speak, the reality of their situation hit home. Most of the inshore fishermen are over 40 and younger crew are often forced to go elsewhere to earn enough money to buy a house or boat. Others simply don't see the appeal of the job; "It's not everybody's cup of tea," one skipper admitted.

Many need to net other sources of income, by targeting different species of fish or crab, or by taking second jobs. Legge, for example, makes willow lobster pots and paints.

And of the 6,000 small inshore boats currently operating, 350 are likely to go out of business each year; the fleet has declined by a third in 50 years. Government reforms are unlikely to help – rather they could force small boat fishermen to target certain fish types, preventing them from diversifying.

It's this wider point that makes Halls's show worthwhile. It may not be an in-your-face campaign like Hugh's Fish Fight, but it might make viewers realise why their sustainably caught fish comes at a price.

But what do you think? Do you think Halls's approach is just fishy froth, or do you find it like being slapped in the face with a wet kipper? Will you be watching the third episode tonight? Let us know below.